


Deny, Deny, Deny

by thistreasurehunter



Series: Before the Storm (prequel to After the Rain) [1]
Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, But it's okay because I've already written the happy ending!, Definitely the darkest fic I've written so far, Extremely low self-worth, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Pining, Porn Watching, Prequel, Self-Worth Issues, Sexuality Crisis, Struggling to accept same-sex desire, Swearing, Unrequited, Unrequited Lust, Voyeurism, Yeah - heavy stuff, unrequited feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:34:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25589134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thistreasurehunter/pseuds/thistreasurehunter
Summary: Noticing the attraction he's started feeling towards Pope, JJ struggles to come to terms with his sexuality and the feelings he’s developing for his best friend.Or: The One Where JJ Is Confused and Horny
Relationships: JJ & Pope (Outer Banks), JJ/Pope (Outer Banks)
Series: Before the Storm (prequel to After the Rain) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854664
Comments: 12
Kudos: 64





	Deny, Deny, Deny

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prequel to my ongoing, chronological series [After the Rain](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1808869), however it can also be read as a stand-alone. All characters are aged 18+
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

JJ can’t remember the first time he felt it: that pang of attraction.

At first, he definitely mistook it for something else. Friendship perhaps?

Between being abandoned by his mother, and the disregard, neglect and outright abuse he suffers at the hands of his father, JJ knew his lovemap was messed up. He knew the way _he_ cared about his friends was more intense, more consuming and more visceral than the way people usually felt.

For him, friendship was intense, authentic, unfiltered, raw. They were his real family. His own found-family. The only family who cared about him, listened to him, accepted him – flaws and all – appreciated him and enjoyed his company. A family he made, and one which he would defend and protect above all else. Because for JJ, there wasn’t anything more important than them.

Yeah, he’s known John B the longest. And yeah, Kiara’s great and fun to flirt with, when she wasn’t acting like his maternal figure. But it was Pope who really _got_ him. Pope was the one who saw past the bravado, the tough exterior and the damage. He saw right through to the soft centre, where everybody else couldn’t see past the jagged edges.

So the first time JJ felt that _pull_ of attraction as he watched Pope strip off his tee and run towards the ocean, board under his arm, he wrote it off as a symptom of their intense friendship and his own messed-up lovemap.

And a week or so later – when Pope hugged him in a fierce embrace of thanks, and JJ felt a jolt of desire as he smelled his friend’s neck and let himself be held close by strong arms – he told himself it was just a side-effect of the strong emotions of the moment.

And the next time – when JJ found himself appreciating the curve of Pope’s ass and the way it filled out his tight, fitted suit trousers – he decided it was just because he was really horny and hadn’t got laid in a while.

And when they were all at The Chateau and Pope was relaxing back on the sofa, wearing a pair of light grey sweats – wearing _only_ a pair of light grey sweats – and JJ caught sight of his outline though the fabric and then felt a sudden pressing need to hold a cushion in his lap… well, JJ told himself, that was just hormones and the thrill of a little voyeurism.

It wasn’t until he was picturing his best friend’s face as he was panting and thrusting, balls-deep in a beautiful touron he’d just pulled, that he first started to get a funny feeling about the whole thing. For the next few days, JJ just flat-out refused to believe that it was the image of Pope’s smiling face floating into his mind that finally tipped him over the edge and had him gasping and groaning and filling the condom.

A single word repeated like a mantra in his head: _deny, deny, deny._

For a week afterwards, JJ tried to avoid Pope. Mostly because JJ felt guilty. Guilty that every time he saw Pope’s face, he thought of his moment of weakness. Guilty that remembering it made heat pool in his stomach. Guilty that even now, as angry and confused as he was, the memory still made him half-hard. Guilty at the hurt look on Pope’s face when JJ snapped and snarked at him, taking out his frustration on the last person he should.

_Deny, deny, deny._

JJ just couldn’t comprehend what was happening to him. He definitely liked women. He knew that for a fact. Loved their warmth, their soft curves and their smooth skin. He loved how they tasted and loved all their jiggly bits. He loved pushing inside them. Loved how they sighed and squirmed and wrapped their legs around him. Loved how they held on, digging their long nails into his back, as they fell apart beneath him. Loved how their pleasure manifested as slick wetness and rhythmic internal clenching.

However, JJ couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to be with someone who’s pleasure was more visible. Where arousal equated to firm hardness and insistent erections, and where release was physical – a glorious, spurting celebration of shared pleasure.

_Deny, deny, deny._

When watching porn, rather than focusing on the woman as he usually did, JJ found himself looking at the guy. Eagerly waiting for the moment he would pull out and release his load on her backside. Shocked when he caught himself doing this, JJ tried switching and watching lesbian videos instead. But video after video of slippery, wet, girl-on-girl action just wasn’t exciting him anymore.

His finger hovered over the link to the M/M section of the site. The echo insistent in his head: _deny, deny, deny._ There’s no harm in looking, right? JJ tried to convince himself. It’s just curiosity. My hands are staying right here, they definitely won’t go wandering. I’m just going to look to prove I don’t like men that way.

He clicked.

Scrolling through the thumnails, JJ breathed deeply. Ok, yes, JJ thought, they do look attractive, but that’s the whole point of these videos, right? Everyone is made to look sexy. Everything is designed that way to help get you off. Bare chests and oiled muscles are just universally appealing, right? It’s like when Pope pulled himself out of the water and into the HMS Pogue the other day. His biceps bulged and his stomach muscles were all taught as he heaved himself up effortlessly. His skin was wet and shining in the golden light of the setting sun, and every curve and swell of his abs was visible, and the ridge of his pecks was defined, and his nipples were dark and peaked from the sudden change in temperature. A droplet of water running slowly over his abs, down the groove of his prominent V muscles and disappearing into the waistband of his low-slung swim shorts… well that was practically art, right? Yes, JJ thought giving himself a shake, that was just universally appealing. I mean, what person with blood in their veins could look at that and _not_ think about sex, right?

He kept scrolling. It’s like erections, he thought. How can you look at a guy with a massive hard-on and _not_ think about sex? That’s their whole purpose. Just like that time at The Chateau when I caught sight of Pope with a stiffy. JJ thought back. He’d woken up on the pull-out, but hadn’t got further than a few bleary blinks, when he saw Pope walking across the room to the kitchen. Pope obviously thought everyone else was still asleep, otherwise he would never have let himself be seen like this. JJ watched covertly as Pope padded across the room wearing only a pair of boxers. Boxers which were very obviously tented from his morning wood. JJ watched, holding his breath, as Pope yawned and lazily reached down to scratch his balls. Even JJ, whose eyes were almost closed to avoid Pope noticing him looking, couldn’t miss the movement and shift of Pope’s bulge as his fingers absently rubbed. It felt like an excruciatingly long time until JJ’s own morning visitor went away and left him in peace; hollow, unsatisfied peace. But, JJ thought, getting a little stimulated at the sight of someone else in a state of arousal was normal, right? Catching sight of someone who was unaware they were being watched and seeing them in their natural state – hard and sleep rumpled and glorious – was weirdly exciting. Seeing someone like that… well of course you’re going to think about sex… Besides, did you see the _size_ of the tent in his underwear? How could anyone see something like that and _not_ think about sex, right? Right?!

JJ’s breath hitched and he stopped scrolling. His eyes focused on a thumnail showing a toned black guy looking heatedly at his slim, blond partner. JJ teetered. Would it be so wrong to look? His finger hovered and he chewed his bottom lip. _Deny, deny, deny._ Then with a determined click, he closed the page. No. He told himself. No.

But on his own – in the shower, or in John B’s spare room, or stretched out on his own bed at home – JJ realised it was getting harder and harder to deny. Erect and desperate, his elbow jerking and his fist urgently pumping himself, he realised his Insta models and his wank bank fantasies just weren’t working for him anymore. He really did try to hold off; try to delay the inevitable. But a quick tug while picturing bouncy tits or a tight wet pussy just wasn’t bringing him relief. And to be quite honest, he really just needed to cum. He was horny and frustrated and he just needed… he needed… he needed… Okay, he thought. Okay. He did it: he pictured Pope. And as soon as he did, he felt that all too familiar jolt of electricity and illicit desire, and with a grunt and a sickening clench of release and guilt, he came long and hard all over himself. Afterwards, however, as the pleasure faded and the cum cooled and dried on his skin, he was left feeling nothing but dirty.

JJ hated himself for it, but later, he returned to the site and scrolled and scrolled until he found the video again. This time his shorts were already unzipped. If I’m doing this, he thought, I might as well go down with a bang. 

He clicked.

Once the video loaded and the images of the men appeared on screen in all their naked glory, the first thing JJ thought was: _hot, but not as hot as Pope._ He shook himself, trying to get the image of Pope out of his head and focus instead on the men in the video. He let his hand reach into his underwear and started pulling lazily.

His eyes flicked over the screen: strong hands ( _Pope has strong hands_ ), flat chests _(Pope has an amazing chest_ ), broad shoulders, backs arching ( _Pope would look amazing like that_ ) and big, hard cocks ( _though not as big as Pope’s, from what I’ve seen…_ ). JJ breathed heavily, transfixed by the images on screen, the uninhibited pleasure, the exposed skin, the contrast of light against dark. Yes, he thought, as the action picked up on screen and his hand picked up the pace. He paused only to spit into his hand before returning, gripping harder and pulling faster than before. JJ’s eyes drank in the sight: a white hand gripping curly black hair; dusky lips sliding down hard, pink flesh; a large, dark hand gripping a pale ass cheek. Yes, he thought, yes. But rather than focusing on the men in the video, JJ realised he’d started thinking about Pope’s hands, Pope’s lips, Pope’s skin… And his pleasure spiked and JJ came hard in spurting waves.

Afterwards, it hit JJ with a bit of a jolt – he realised he’d never really considered Pope’s race before. Not really. Not like that. Coming from a broken home – from neglect and disregard – JJ had learned to focus on similarities, to look for things that brought him closer to people, rather than focusing on differences and the things that separated him from others.

JJ was grudgingly coming to accept that he was attracted to men, but he still wasn’t entirely sure about the specifics. He knew he was attracted to Pope. And he also knew he was drawn to that particular video. Did he just have a _type,_ then? Was that what he liked in a man? Was that why he felt that pull towards Pope? Did Pope just fit a physical aesthetic that JJ preferred? Or, JJ swallowed hard, did he like that video specifically because the actor reminded him of Pope, and it was easy for JJ to mentally substitute himself into the place of the blond actor? JJ’s head started to hurt, and he could feel a pounding starting behind his eyes. I’m so screwed, he thought.

And the more JJ thought about it, the more it all slowly clicked into place. JJ liked Pope. He _really liked_ Pope. He just couldn’t deny it any longer. JJ liked the way Pope looked, liked the way he smelled, liked the way he moved and laughed and smiled. But he also just liked _Pope. _Liked all the funny little idiosyncrasies that made him just who he was: the way he flared his nostrils when he was annoyed but trying to hold it in, the way he would bite his bottom lip when he was reading, the way he called JJ out on his bullshit, the way he listened to him, the way he made JJ feel valued, the way silence between them was never awkward. The way he looked at JJ, like JJ was something worth looking at. No, JJ thought, he doesn’t just fit my type. He _is_ my type. He is the centre, the crux of it all: the only man I could ever really want.__

____

And at that thought, JJ felt a weight settle over his chest, because he knew it could never really happen. Not in real life; only in his head. Because JJ knew Pope didn’t feel that way about him. Even if Pope was attracted to men – which he _wasn’t_ – how could Pope like _him_? How could he be attracted to someone as broken and damaged and unclean? How could someone whose light shines so brightly, look twice at someone so dull and unimportant and worthless?

____

And then Pope kissed Kiara, and a ball of lead settled in JJ’s stomach.

____

_Deny, deny, deny,_ he thought. No longer because he was ashamed or confused, but for self-preservation. Focus on friendship, he told himself. Friendship will have to be enough.

____

Because JJ knew: sometimes not close enough was as close as you were ever going to get.

____

**Author's Note:**

> Comments make my day!
> 
> Also - I'm over on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thistreasurehunter) \- I take requests and you can also see what I'm [working on next](https://thistreasurehunter.tumblr.com/post/624214773315321856/thistreasurehunter-requests-list) (warning: nsfw/adult content under the cut). 💙


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